


Republic of Neptune

by CubbieGirl1723



Category: Republic of Doyle, Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Post ROD finale, missing person, post MKAT, team detecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723
Summary: A missing woman, an international crime boss, and Dick Casablancas. How are they all connected? Veronica and Logan have to work together with visiting detectives Jake Doyle and Leslie Bennett to find out.
Relationships: Leslie Bennett/Jake Doyle, Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35





	Republic of Neptune

**Author's Note:**

> I love P.I. shows. Absolutely love them. My love of Veronica Mars is deep but I've been obsessed with Republic of Doyle for a long time, too. And when I saw Enrico Colantonti guest-star in an episode of ROD, my brain immediately started wondering...what would it be like if Jake Doyle and Veronica Mars had to work together? Thus, this crossover was born. I will say, though, it's probably more of a VM fic as it's set in Veronica's POV. You can still read it even if you know nothing about ROD.
> 
> Some things you need to know: this is set in 2018 post-MKAT and post series for ROD and contains spoilers for all of Veronica Mars and all six seasons of ROD--which, if you like P.I. shows, I highly recommend.

“Honey? Is that you?”

Veronica closes the Mars Investigation office door behind her, taking another fortifying sip of her grande double-shot from Java the Hut. Peeking into her dad’s half of the space, she tips it to him in salute. 

“Morning, Pops. How’s tricks?” 

Keith looks up from the legal pad in front of him, adjusting the reading glasses on his nose. 

“I think I just met a friend of yours. Douglas Cornel?”

“Who?” 

_Clearly, I need more coffee. Logan really wore me out last night._ She takes another swig to keep from smirking. Can’t have her dad reading that look on her face. 

“Neptune High, Class of ‘06, he claimed.” 

“Douglas Corn—oh, Corny! Haven’t seen him around lately. What’s he up to?”

“He’s, uh, up pretty high, if you know what I mean. Anything reliable ever come out of his mouth?” Keith raises an eyebrow and she nods. 

“Yeah, that was his M.O. in high school, too, but he’s harmless. Nice guy. What brought him in?”

“If we can believe him, his girlfriend is missing.”

Sinking into the client chair across from his desk, she can’t help the shiver of fear that crawls down her spine. 

_Neptune. Missing girls. This never ends well._

“What happened?”

“Mr. Cornel, unfortunately, doesn’t seem to have the best grasp on dates and times. Or basic facts.” He taps his legal pad and Veronica snorts, premonition dissipating. 

“He’s been high for, like, a decade. Cut him some slack. Maybe she broke up with him and he just...forgot.”

“That should make it easy for you, then.” He tears the sheet of paper off the notepad and waves it at her. 

“Me? You took the case, Dude.”

“He specifically requested you, as a fellow Pirate.”

Veronica sighs and rolls her eyes. _My illustrious Neptune High legacy._

“Plus, I’m pretty sure his girlfriend is your BFF.”

She snatches the paper from his grasp. “I think I’d know if Wallace was dating Corny. He would not appreciate—”

Breaking off, she scans his notes. “Ruby Jetson? Corny is dating Ruby Jetson? How did that happen?”

“Oddly enough, I didn’t ask. But I definitely remember her being your BFF when she chose not to press charges against you for that B&E.” 

Veronica scoffs, ignoring his pointed look and blatant sarcasm. “If anything, she’s Logan’s BFF. But…”

As she reads over the scant information on Ruby, anxiety clenches her stomach. _I hope it’s just a misunderstanding. If not..._

“Three days?”

“She was on a meditation retreat but should be back by now. Hasn’t returned any texts and no answer at her apartment.”

“Did he report her missing to the Sheriff?”

“Yesterday,” Keith confirms with a nod. “But he didn’t feel like they were taking him seriously.”

“Which might be valid, but I’ll look into it.” Veronica stands and shoulders her black leather messenger bag. “I know where she lives.”

“Try not to get arrested this time, Veronica,” he calls after her as she makes her way through the waiting area.

“Haha, Dad. You're hilarious.”

“And now that Logan’s home, you should bring him over for dinner. I haven’t seen him since he got back. Tell him I’m grilling steaks.”

She sticks her head back in the doorway. “Sure. What do you want us to bring?”

Keith chuckles. “I like how you say ‘us,’ when we both know who’s cooking.”

“Hey! I cook!” She puts indignant hands on her hips. “I make a mean potato salad and—”

“I don’t need a list, honey. I’m just teasing. But tell Logan to make a salad. The kind with vegetables in it.” 

Harrumphing at him, Veronica moves to let herself out, but she has to jump out of the way as the glass door swings in towards her. 

Brushing past her, a petite blonde in a pantsuit and a scruffy, handsome dark-haired man enter. She glances at his black leather jacket and jeans and then at her own, raising an eyebrow. She can’t help it if she has a classic look that people want to emulate.

“Keith Mars?” He asks.

“Thataway.” She jerks her thumb towards her dad’s office and heads out. 

* * *

“You doing anything today?” Switching her phone to speaker, Veronica misses driving Logan’s Bluetooth-enabled midnight blue BMW. He reclaimed it upon returning from his most recent deployment and, while she’d rather have him here, she did enjoy his sweet ride while he was gone. But her silver RAV-4 is better for stakeouts. 

Or so she tells herself as she readjusts back to life without the Beemer. 

“Nope,” Logan pants into the phone. “No plans. Just finished a run and now I’m gonna shower.”

“Too bad I already did that this morning or I’d join you.” She lets a note of seduction fill her voice, dropping it into a lower register. 

“I could get you real dirty first, if you like. Make it worthwhile.”

“Mmm, tempting. I was actually going to invite you to join me for a little snooping and then lunch.”

“Oooo.” 

Logan sounds genuinely excited. He’s actually not a bad partner, which is why she asked him to come along, even if she doesn’t technically need his help. That, and she missed him desperately for the past six months and doesn’t want to let him out of her sight. They took the long weekend to stay in, order takeout, and have copious amounts of excellent sex to celebrate his return. He still has two weeks before his shore rotation starts on base, and she’s not willing to admit how much she dreaded leaving him for work this morning. 

“Count me in,” he continues, and doesn’t ask for more details. 

“Great. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

Once she gets to her apartment, Veronica idles in the car. If she goes inside, she will definitely be distracted by Logan in various states of undress. So she uses the time to look up information on Ruby Jetson. 

Yep, Ruby still lives in the garage apartment and works at KMD’s Floral Arrangements. Or she was as of April, when she filed her county taxes. Logan takes forever to get ready—the diva—so she looks up Corny, as well. 

He lives in an apartment in Bluffside Heights, which, if she remembers correctly, is down the road from the Sunset Cliffs and features neither Bluffs nor Heights. Ah, Neptune real estate. Picturesque names for crappy locations. 

Corny’s employment history is a little harder to decipher. He works at Cho’s Pizza on occasion, and had stints at the Sak-N-Pak, a sandwich shop, and a car wash. It’s unclear if he’s currently employed or not. 

Opening the car door, Logan slides into the passenger seat, and smacks a kiss on her cheek, cutting her browsing short. 

“Ready?” She refrains from grabbing his face and planting one on his lips like she really wants to. They already gave their neighbors enough of a show in the parking lot when he arrived home on Thursday. 

He nods. “I assume you’ll explain on the way?”

“Naturally.”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

  
“So how is this not breaking and entering, Veronica?” Logan pesters as she picks the flimsy lock on Ruby’s door. “What if Corny is a stalker and he’s using you to—”

“A stalker? Really? Do you even remember Corny?” She stops and glares at him. 

“Vaguely.”

“‘Vaguely’ is a startlingly accurate description of him. He’s harmless and I checked; he filed a missing persons report. So it’s legit. If we’re caught, we will just explain that we’re on a case and helping the Neptune PD.”

“But—”

“You don’t have to worry, Mr. Decorated Naval Officer.” She cuts him off, swinging the door open. “We won’t get caught.”

“That’s Lieutenant Decorated Naval Officer, actually.”

“Shut up.” She presses a hard kiss to his mouth—because breaking and entering with him is kinda hot—and gets to work. The studio is small; it shouldn’t take long. Mercifully, Ruby’s larger-than-life wall mural of his ex-girlfriend is gone. 

“So, what are you looking for?” Logan shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and glances around.

“Well, there’s no evidence this place was ransacked,” she peeks in Ruby’s closet, “and it doesn’t look like she grabbed her clothes and split. I can’t really tell if she packed for her meditation retreat or not.”

Moving into the small kitchen area, he raps his knuckles on the refrigerator door. A butterfly magnet showcases a photo strip of Corny and Ruby, making different faces for the camera. 

“And she probably wouldn’t have this up if they weren’t actually dating.”

“Good catch, Lieutenant. If that whole pilot thing doesn’t work out, you could come work for me.” Veronica throws him a saucy wink as she rifles through Ruby’s desk. 

“Hmm.” Logan pauses while opening Ruby’s junk drawer and strokes his chin. “Do you have dental? Decent retirement package?”

“Nope. Zero benefits.”

Crossing in front of the meticulously made bed, she ducks into Ruby’s small bathroom. All the contents appear to be where she left them, pointing to the fact that if she took off on her own, she didn’t grab anything from home first. Maybe Corny knows more about this retreat? Veronica jumps as Logan’s hands snake around her waist, his warmth at her back. 

“I wouldn’t say ‘zero.’ I can think of some pretty significant benefits.” He nips her neck and she tries to hide how it makes her knees go weak. 

Logan’s not easily fooled, though, and he continues to kiss her, sending tingles zipping along her skin, until she remembers they are in Ruby Jetson’s apartment under dubious circumstances. 

“But, see,” her voice comes out breathy instead of authoritative like she intended, “this kind of conduct makes me think you’d be a distraction.”

Logan swiftly turns her to face him. “The best kind.”

His lips meet hers in a hungry kiss. Hands wandering under his soft grey t-shirt, she traces the ridges of his abs, lost in the moment until he tries to lift her onto the bathroom counter and they knock a bottle of contact lens solution into the sink.

“Shit.” Veronica pushes against his chest. “This is not our house.”

“Right.” He shakes his head, as if clearing out the cobwebs. “And that’s bad?”

“Yes. I think it’s time to go, before you get me into trouble.” 

Logan chuckles and she turns at the doorway, arching an eyebrow at him. “By the way, you need to bring a salad to my dad’s for dinner tonight.”

“And you just now thought to mention this, Mars?” His exasperated tone is offset by a soft smile. 

“Sorry.” She’s not. “If we hurry up at the store, we might have time to play hookey this afternoon.”

“Say no more.” Logan grabs her hand and hurries after her out of the apartment.

* * *

  
After ringing the doorbell at her dad’s house repeatedly and getting no answer, Veronica and Logan traipse around to Keith’s small backyard. 

“Dad?” she calls. 

“Back here, Honey!”

The fence is unlatched, so they let themselves through the gate. Keith mans the barbecue, wearing a ridiculous apron that proclaims he’s King of the Grill. Veronica got it for him for Father’s Day, and he wears it every chance he gets. 

She stops short, spotting two strangers lounging at his patio table, nursing beers. 

“Veronica, Logan, I want you to meet some friends of mine, Jake and Leslie.”

They stand, and she recognizes the couple from the office earlier. The blonde has exchanged the pantsuit for dark jeans and a navy blouse, but the scruffy man (presumably Jake) is still wearing the black leather jacket. Now she has to take hers off or risk looking like his twin. 

Sighing, she peels it off and drapes it over the back of a chair while Logan sets down his salad bowl and extends a hand. 

“Whaddayat?” Jake asks, shaking their hands. Veronica shoots Logan a confused look. _Is that English?_

“Uh, nice to meet you?” Logan hazards a guess. 

“You’re Keith’s daughter?” Jake’s eyes rake her, not sexual but speculative. 

“Yep. And partner. I saw you in the office today, right?”

Which is a nice way of saying, _is this a business dinner? Are you a client?_

“I met Jake and Leslie in St. John’s a while back,” Keith puts in, lifting the hood of the grill, eyes focused on his task. “You remember, that insurance fraud case? I came to see you in New York after since I was already on that side of the country.”

“St. John?” Logan echoes, settling in at the patio table. “Screw fighter pilot. I would have been a P.I. if I had known it took you to the Caribbean.”

“We’ve heard that a lot lately, but it’s actually in Newfoundland. Canada.” Leslie corrects, shooting him a sunny smile. 

“Oh, right. I remember,” Veronica replies.

She recalls the visit but not the particulars of the case. Swamped in her third year of law school and barely breathing at that point, she had put on a smile for her dad anyway and accompanied him across the city, doing all the touristy things his heart desired. She’s not surprised she doesn’t remember the details. Or what this couple had to do with it. 

Veronica grabs a Stella from the cooler, then hands the long-necked beer to Logan. It’s sweet of her dad to buy his favorite. 

“More drinks?” She offers to their guests. 

“Beer, please. Whatever you have.” Jake stretches, crosses his boots out in front of him. 

“Same.” Leslie is relaxed but something about her alert posture screams ‘cop.’ It reminds her of her dad, who’s been out of law enforcement for almost fifteen years but still looks at the world like the sheriff he once was. 

Veronica eyes the two strangers as she hands them their drinks. Partners? Dating? Married? Their level of comfort with each other definitely suggests a relationship of some sort. 

“So, for Logan’s sake, remind us about this insurance case?” She shoots him a teasing grin and he smiles back at her. 

God, she missed him. A long weekend to get reacquainted wasn’t long enough. 

“Sure, honey. Let me just finish up the steaks…” Her dad trails off, busies himself with the grill and she notices the empty table. 

“Oh! Plates! Be right back.”

Grabbing paper plates, napkins, and utensils from her dad’s kitchen, she hurries outside. Her dad slides a beautifully cooked steak onto her proffered plate. Keith serves their guests and once he sits down, Veronica digs in. It’s delicious. 

Next to her, Logan takes a bite and sighs in appreciation. “This hits the spot, Keith. Thanks.”

“Of course. A hero’s welcome for you.”

To say that her dad had not been thrilled when she started dating Logan again would be an understatement. But while Keith recovered from his car accident, she had six months to remind him that her boyfriend was a bona fide American hero, a fighter pilot deployed to serve their country. And when Keith saw how happy they were upon Logan’s return, he lightened up considerably. Now, two and a half years after she moved back to Neptune, he has accepted Logan as part of the family. 

At Jake and Leslie’s curious stares, Keith clears his throat, proud papa smile on his face, and claps Logan on the shoulder. 

“Logan is a fighter pilot in the Navy. Just returned from deployment.”

Once Keith decided he was on board with their relationship, bragging about her badass boyfriend was just as good as telling everyone about his big shot daughter in law school. Maybe better. Veronica sighs. This could go on forever. 

Logan blushes and she intervenes. “So, Dad, this insurance fraud case in Canada?”

“Oh, right.” Keith pops a bite of steak in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss, before he speaks again. “I was undercover, trying to figure out who perpetrated the fraud. The case brought me to St. John’s, but my license is only good in the U.S., not Canada, so I recruited some help. Jake didn’t know I was investigating a case at the time. He’s a local St. John’s P.I., but I just met Leslie today.”

Jake tosses them a curt nod, takes a pull of his beer. 

“So, you guys just checking out sunny San Diego?” Logan quirks an eyebrow. 

“Eh, not exactly.” Jake shoots Leslie a look, clearly asking how much he should say. _Those two are totally involved._

At her nod, he continues. “We’re chasing a fugitive, tracked him here. But we have the same issue—not licensed. Thankfully my old friend Donny Pearl owes me a favor.”

“Donny Pearl?” Veronica giggles at her dad. “Really?”

“Hey, it’s a good alias!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Who are you tracking?” Logan ignores their banter and leans forward, eyes alight with curiosity. 

“Name’s Maurice Becker.” Jake takes a bite of his steak, raises his eyebrows in appreciation. “This is delicious, thanks, Keith.”

“He’s a smuggler,” Leslie puts in, dishing up some of Logan’s salad. “He started out rum running, but branched out into weapons, and now drugs.”

“Why are you looking for him? I mean, I get that he’s a bad guy but something must have happened, right?”

“Drug trade has escalated something fierce lately and we got a tip about a big shipment of guns coming in soon. I’m RNC, but Jake—” Leslie breaks off at their blank looks. “Royal Newfoundland Constabulary.” 

“Is that like the Mounties?” Logan gets up to grab another beer from the cooler, setting extras in the center of the table. 

“More like the city police,” she explains, forkful of lettuce paused halfway to her mouth. “The RNC actually hired Doyle & Doyle to find him. Becker’s been a fugitive for five years, but Jake’s had more luck bringing him in than anyone else.”

“Doyle and Doyle? Is that you two?”

“Technically, I suppose, but I kept my maiden name. I’m still Leslie Bennett at work. Trying to keep criminals with grudges away from my family.”

“The other Doyle is actually my dad.” 

“Wise man.” Keith nods. “Working with his father.”

Veronica glares and Jake huffs a laugh. “I don’t know about that. But it is what it is.”

“How’s it coming? Catching your rum runner?” Logan asks, eyes sharp with curiosity. 

“Drug and weapons smuggler,” Leslie corrects. “And kidnapper, too. He’s used shipping crates to get people out of the way before. We checked out the docks today but if he was there, we missed him.”

“No evidence, huh?” Keith drains his beer. “I think we might know someone at the port we can ask.”

“Thanks, Keith. Besides the business card of a florist, we’ve got nothing.”

“A florist?” Veronica sits up, pinning Jake in her stare. “What are you talking about?”

He shifts, roots around in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Opening it, he withdraws a crumpled white business card and tosses it to her. 

“KMD Flowers. Ruby Jetson,” she breathes, a zing of electricity racing up her spine. “My missing person.”

“What?” Jake asks, leaning forward as Leslie’s fork clatters to her plate. “Who is she? How is she connected to Becker?”

Veronica fingers the bent corner of the business card. “She just works at a flower shop. I have no idea how she’d be connected.”

“But she’s missing?” Jake presses. “For how long?”

“Her boyfriend came in this morning,” Keith explains. “Knows Veronica from high school. He said Ruby has been missing three days.”

Leslie’s forehead wrinkles in obvious anxiety. “I’d hate to think what would happen if he has her. Have you found any evidence of foul play?”

“None at her apartment. And I did a deep dive of her financials this afternoon, no big deposits or anything like that.” Veronica tries to keep her voice even, her face blank. Logan grabs her hand and squeezes it, letting her know he’s picked up on her irritation at being interrogated on her own case.

“Any known associates with drug ties?” Jake persists.

“The boyfriend?” Keith speculates. “I mean, Veronica, you said yourself he’s been high for a decade.”

“But Corny’s harmless,” she protests. 

“Your missing person’s boyfriend has known drug ties and you didn’t even think you should check it out?” Jake’s face creases in scorn. 

“He’s the one who hired us.” Her voice raises as she gets more incredulous.

 _Who does this guy think he is? Magnum, P.I.?_

“Great way to throw suspicion off himself.” Jake growls through clenched teeth and leans forward.

“Corny’s really not that deep. Come on.” She turns to Logan. “Known drug ties is a stretch. You remember him from high school. Do you think he’s capable of that kind of reasoning?” 

Logan opens his mouth, hopefully to back her up, but Jake cuts him off. 

“You’re really gonna ignore a lead like that?”

Her dad must sense that she’s moments away from punching this guy—a client and a guest—in the face. He rests his hand on her forearm, ostensibly doting but in reality holding her back. 

“Of course she’s not. She’ll look into it tomorrow and let you know if she finds any ties to your case. She’s also going to go inside and find the ice cream I hid in the freezer.”

Her dad gives her plantative smile and if it weren’t for the promise of ice cream, she’d shake his hand off her arm and storm out. But part of running a business is putting up with difficult clients—she's learned that from him—so she pushes to her feet, jaw clenched against the words she wants to say, and heads inside. 

* * *

  
According to her more thorough background check, Douglas Cornel is self-employed. Veronica checks out his Etsy website—duct-tape wallets available in every color. She had hoped to visit Corny at work but it appears that “work” is the same thing as home for him. Maybe stopping by unannounced is the best way to get honest answers.

Corny’s apartment complex was probably never swanky but it’s definitely showing some deterioration these days. The pool is empty, the stucco faded, and the iron wrought decor, once white, is stained with rust. Veronica makes her way to his second floor accommodations, knocks and waits as she hears shuffling inside through the thin walls.

“Veronica!” Corny opens the door with a wide grin, hair as unkempt as ever. “I saw your dad yesterday. Did he send you?”

“Corny, man. It’s been too long. Mind if I come in?”

“Sure, sure.” He motions her inside, waves at a threadbare tan couch in front of a scarred wooden coffee table. “Can I get you anything?”

“Soda?” 

Nodding, he heads to the fridge and Veronica takes the opportunity to glance around. Corny’s apartment is cluttered but not dirty. It’s small—about the size of her current living room—and she’d bet it’s a one-bedroom. The smell of pot lingers in the air, but there is no visible evidence that he’s been smoking recently.

“So have you found Ruby yet?” His forehead creases with worry as he hands her a Diet Coke and opens one for himself, sitting down in an armchair across from the couch. 

“No.” Popping open the can, she takes a sip. “I didn’t know you were seeing Ruby. How long have you two been dating?”

“Couple of months, man. I really like her.”

He doesn’t elaborate so she moves on. “What makes you think she’s missing?”

“What do you mean? She’s, like, gone.” 

“She’s not just on vacation? An impromptu trip? Stayed longer at her meditation retreat? Maybe went to visit family and forgot to tell you?” It didn’t look like that was the case after checking out Ruby’s apartment, but Veronica wants to hear what he says.

“That’s not like her. And why wouldn’t she just answer her phone and tell me?”

_Valid question, Corny._

“Have you guys gotten into any fights lately?” she presses, setting her soda can on the coffee table with a thunk.

“Veronica, no! What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, just asking some questions.” She tries to sooth his ruffled feathers. “Gathering info. It’s what I do.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Corny runs a hand through his hair. “It’s been four days now. I’m really worried. You’ve got to find her.” 

“Do you know of any reason she would have been at the docks the day she disappeared?”

“The docks?” He echos, eyes wide. “That’s a weird place for a flower delivery. And it’s not close to the retreat center.”

Leaning forward, she pats his shoulder. “We’ll find her, Corny. I’ll keep you posted. Can you give me the details about the meditation retreat?”

“Sure, sure.” After fiddling with his phone, he finds a scrap piece of paper and jots down the information. 

Clearing her throat, Veronica forges ahead and hopes Corny doesn’t notice the odd subject change. She knows he’s not a drug kingpin, but after Jake Doyle made such a big deal yesterday, she has to ask. “And hey, I know this is random, but it feels like something you would know. If I was looking for some herbal refreshment, where’s the best place to go in Neptune?”

Corny scratches the stubble on his chin, thoughtful. “It’s all legal now, so much easier. I think _High How Are You_ would be your kind of place.”

Veronica’s not sure if that is a compliment or not but she smiles at him. “What makes it my kind of place?”

“Oh, I run into your friend Dick there all the time. Do you guys still hang out?”

She knew that Dick was enjoying the new recreational drug laws in California, but _all the time?_

“Uh, yeah. He and Logan are tight.” Holding up two fingers crossed together, she tries not to grimace as she thinks about Dick. “I’ll have him pick up something good for our next hang. But not until after I find Ruby.” 

Standing, she heads towards the door. “Speaking of, I’ll let us both get back to work. And don’t worry, I’ll be in touch.”

“I should go fill some orders for the ol’ Etsy store.” Corny stretches, pulls himself off the couch and begins rummaging through a box of duct tape in the corner. 

“Speaking of Etsy, do you happen to have any orange duct tape wallets?” 

With his trademark goofy grin, he holds one aloft. “Here ya go.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Twenty bucks.”

Veronica fishes the cash out of her messenger bag and slaps it into Corny’s palm. It will totally be worth it to see the look on Logan’s face when she presents him with the truly hideous, bright orange eye sore.

* * *

The chicken strips sizzle in the pan, almost ready for her to add the peppers and onions. Pony is at her side, interested in the smell of fajitas but not in the way. Over the sound of the skillet and the radio she switched on, Veronica hears Logan’s keys rattle in the door, but she stays at the stove. After Pony greets him, he comes up behind her, kissing her neck and sending shivers through her. 

“I bought you a present,” she sing-songs, tilting her head to give him more access. 

“And you’re making my favorite dinner. What are you buttering me up for?”

“Buttering you up? Would I do that?”

“Definitely.” His warm tone takes the sting out of his words. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Maybe I just like you a little.”

“I like you, too, Veronica.” Spinning her around, Logan’s mouth descends on hers, tongue sweeping inside to possess her. Gripping his soft U.S. Navy t-shirt in her fists, she holds on tightly as her knees go weak. 

“Mmm.” Coming up for air, she mumbles, “The fajitas will burn.”

Logan steps back and runs a hand over his short hair. “Save the fajitas at all costs, then. Is it a naked blonde present? Those are my favorite.” 

“Here.” Ignoring the innuendo, she hands him the spatula. “Stir.”

He takes over without complaint, switching places with her at the stove. Veronica locates her black studded messenger bag on the entryway table by the front door and rummages through. Locating his present, she shoves it into her back pocket. On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs the bowl of sliced peppers and onions from the fridge. Pony tracks her progress but doesn’t move from Logan’s (and the chicken’s) side. 

Their new condo is bigger than she’s used to, the largest place she’s lived in a long time. When Logan returned from that first deployment, it was so good to have him back after being apart for 180 days—and nine years previously—that he ended up moving into her tiny place in Dog Beach by default. His clothes migrated to her closet—not like he had much—and after two months, she gave him her spare key and tried to pretend like it wasn’t the most important thing she’d ever handed him. That was that. Once they bought a dog, it solidified that they were firmly shacked up together. 

After the second deployment—Bilbo’s deployment, she always thought of it in her head—Logan surprised her at Christmas by asking if they could buy a place together. She initially balked at the request, having thought her little beach apartment was perfectly fine. She eventually came around to the idea, and, even though it took some time to find a place that suited both their needs, she feels at home here. Two bedrooms, a kitchen that opens into the living room, a balcony with a view, beach access, and a solid security system make it a great fit for them.

Dumping the peppers and onions in with the chicken, she swipes the spatula from Logan and moves the food around, making sure it’s all coated in the seasoning mixture.

“Where’s this present that you mentioned?” Feathering his fingers up her sides, Logan playfully tugs on the neckline of her shirt and glances down into her cleavage. “Is it in here? Because I’ll dig for it.”

Laughing, Veronica hip-checks him. “Try my pockets.”

“I’m happy to explore those, too.” Digging into her tiny front pockets, he sweeps his fingers around, tickling her hip bones. “Hmm, empty.” 

Then he stuffs his hands into her back pockets, nuzzling her neck before pulling away, holding up the orange duct tape wallet like it’s a prize. His eyes morph from excited to confused and Veronica laughs at him again.

“Ta-da! It would match the hideous orange pants you used to wear in high school.”

Holding it between forefinger and thumb, Logan grimaces at the wallet. 

“What is it?”

“A wallet. Handmade, so you know that means it’s expensive.”

“Did the Home Depot make it?”

He continues to stare at the offensive accessory. 

“Corny. I visited him today and, uh, saved on shipping.”

“Small mercies,” Logan mutters, then tosses the wallet on the counter and grabs plates from the cupboard. “What do you want to drink?”

“It’s Mexican food, so….”

“Corona with lime?”

“Of course.”

Switching off the stovetop, Veronica leaves the pan on top to warm and assembles the fajitas, then carries their plates over to the small table in the eat-in area off the kitchen. After he sets down two Coronas, Logan snags chips and salsa and joins her.

“I still don’t know what favor you want out of dinner,” he takes a bite, talks around it, “but this is delicious. Thanks. How’s Corny? Find any leads on his case?”

Swallowing, she sips her beer and shakes her head. “No. And I really don’t think he’s a drug lord.”

“Me, either. But now you can say you checked it out.”

“Corny did, um, mention Dick. I haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he up to?”

Veronica digs a chip in the salsa, crunches down on it, and waits for Logan to swallow. 

“We’ve been trying to find a time to see each other since I got back. This may shock you, but he’s not a prolific correspondent when I’m deployed. 

“No?” Veronica drops her mouth open in mock surprise. “I thought he’d pen you a letter every fortnight.”

“According to his texts, he’s finally getting his new club off the ground, Lush. He’s been asking me to come around and I haven’t had the chance yet.” Scooping up a fallen piece of chicken off his plate, Logan pops it into his mouth. 

“Oh, yeah?” She takes another swig of her drink, enjoying the slightly heavy feeling in her limbs from being full of Mexican food and half a bottle of beer. “Quite the name he picked.”

“It’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time. I guess he finally found the right investors.” He shrugs, taking his last bite.

“Dick as a responsible business owner. Who’d have thought?”

“Responsible might be a stretch.”

Setting his beer down on the table with a clink, Logan pats his slim belly before standing. 

“That was delicious. You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

“Mmm, there’s nothing sexier than watching you do the dishes.”

“Nothing sexier? Really?” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “That’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one.”

Maybe it is. But he certainly makes good on it later and Veronica is happy to be wrong. It turns out there’s nothing sexier than his head between her thighs.

* * *

  
After greeting Pony and slipping off her boots, Veronica plops down onto the green couch in their living room and puts her feet up on the coffee table. 

“Whew. I’m definitely looking forward to staying in tonight and doing nothing.”

Clearing his throat, Logan pops his head out of the kitchen. “About that.”

“No. No to whatever comes out of your mouth next.”

“What if I was going to offer to give you a massage? Cook you dinner?”

“But you weren’t.”

“Well, no.” Staring at the floor, he hesitates. “Before you put your sweatpants on, you should know, we’re going to Dick’s new club tonight.”

Veronica shakes her head. “I’m not going and you can’t make me.”

Sitting down next to her on the couch, Logan starts rubbing her shoulders. As if a back massage is enough to convince her she wants to do this.

“I know going out isn’t exactly our scene anymore, but I haven’t been there yet. And it’s the hottest club in Neptune, very hard to get into.”

“I’ll gladly give someone else my place,” she whines, rolling her head so he can really dig into the spot at the base of her neck. 

“I know you’re not his biggest fan, but I should go.”

Veronica sighs. While she’d never say they’re chummy, she’s reached an unspoken truce with Dick Casablancas. The product of shitty parents and distorted values, growing up in Neptune was rough on a lot of people. Dick had made some of the worst choices she’d ever seen, but they weren’t sixteen anymore; he has turned into a halfway decent human being. Despite everything that had happened between them, Dick has been loyal to Logan, supporting him when no one else had been there, including Veronica. She tolerates him for Logan’s sake. But hanging out in his club requires back up.

“The hottest club in Neptune, you say? Call Dick and tell him to expect Mac and Wallace, too. The only way I’m doing this is if I can convince them to come with me.”

* * *

  
Dick had taken care of everything for them, not only adding their names to the VIP list but also making sure the bartenders knew they were on his tab. The bouncers recognized them at the door, and their reserved table is in a primo spot. 

The thumping baseline and pulsing strobe lights make Veronica glad she took those pre-emptive Advil at home before they left. Adjusting one of the spaghetti straps on her fitted blue dress, she catches Logan eyeing her cleavage. Instead of blushing or looking away, he raises his eyebrows suggestively and whistles at her.

“I know you didn’t want to come, Mars,” he steps closer and whispers in her ear, “but you clean up nice.”

“Eh. You don’t look too bad, yourself.” In his impeccably tailored dark grey suit, he looks good enough to eat with a spoon.

Glancing around the club, she has to admit she’s surprised. When she found out Dick Casablancas was opening a nightclub in Neptune, she automatically assumed it was a strip club. But this is classier than she expected. Just a few blocks over from the 09er, Lush is spacious. There are two horseshoe-shaped dance floors, ringed with large circular booths big enough to hold at least ten people. The cream tufted leather seats are inviting, decorated at intervals with glass pillar vases, calla lilies spilling out the top. Each dance floor has its own bar with the DJ set up in between them. A balcony level wraps around the main floor and Veronica bets that’s where Dick’s office is located. 

“Veronica!” Mac makes her way through the crowd to them, weaving through what appears to be a bachelorette party. “Hey, thanks for the invite.”

Giving her a half hug, Veronica pulls back to ogle her friend. “Damn, Mac. You look hot.”

Mac smooths down her blush pencil skirt, then tugs at the collar of her high-necked crop top. Just a strip of her midriff is visible between the two. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“It’s exactly the right amount.”

“I feel so out of practice.” Mac frowns, tucks a strand of purple hair behind her ear. Veronica likes that the colors have creeped back in lately. “It’s been a while...since Celia and I…”

“That’s why a night out after a breakup is exactly what you need. Thanks for coming with.” Veronica links her arm through Mac’s and tugs her over to the bar. “Drinks are on Dick’s tab tonight.”

Perking up at that, Mac orders a bourbon, neat, and Veronica requests two glasses of scotch. 

“I’ve missed you, Q.” She toys idly with a book of matches on the bar. “How’s the company?”

Having Mac work with her at Mars Investigations had been Veronica’s dream, but it wasn’t meant to be. They didn’t have enough work to keep Mac busy, and Veronica understood when her friend didn’t want to become a glorified assistant. Mac had left MI a year ago to start her own tech consulting firm, with the understanding that Veronica could come to her for help at any time for a highly discounted rate.

“It’s good, Bond. Setting my own hours is awesome and I like that I can pick and choose what projects I want to tackle. My client list is really growing. But I do miss seeing you and your dad everyday.”

The bartender gives them a flirty smile along with their drinks and they make their way back to Logan. Reclining in the middle of a huge booth with his arms stretched across the back, he oozes sex appeal.

Veronica shouldn’t be surprised when a busty brunette from the bachelorette party makes a beeline toward him. The floozy bats her eyelashes and leans over, putting her ample chest on display. Logan scooches away. She tries to run her red fingernail down his arm, but Logan picks up her hand and removes it with disdain. Veronica can’t hear the exchange, but Logan sits up, shifting his sight line to her and gives a finger wave. Veronica raises a glass in his direction and slides into the booth, trying not to growl as the other woman beats a hasty retreat.

“Thanks for the drink, pumpkin.”

Logan drops a kiss on the top of her head, then takes a sip.

“Whew. She’s lucky she didn’t combust on the spot from the look you gave her, Bond.” Mac raises her eyebrows and sits down next to her.

“If Logan would just finally agree to that ‘property of Veronica Mars’ tattoo across his forehead like I’ve been suggesting, we’d avoid a lot of issues.”

“Or you could just put a ring on it.” Logan raises his left hand and wags his fourth finger at her. 

“V! There you are!” 

Wallace’s arrival saves her from responding to Logan. Still blinking in shock from that comment, she takes in his grey slacks and pressed maroon shirt, then pulls him in for a hug. 

“You guys are both gonna pick up so many numbers tonight because, wow.” Veronica leers at her friends. “We grew up hot.” 

“Actually, Veronica, there’s someone I want you to meet.” As Wallace steps aside, Veronica notices a pretty black girl behind him. Short dark hair bouncing in tight curls around her face, her brown eyes twinkle as Wallace grabs her hand and draws her forward. “This is Shae.”

Closing her open mouth, Veronica sticks out her hand and tries to hide her surprise. “Uh, hi, nice to meet you.”

Mac introduces herself to Shae and even Logan rouses himself from the booth to shake her hand. 

“Wallace brought a date,” she hisses in his ear as they sit back down around the table, staring at the woman. Her slinky black dress clings to her curves and Wallace looks at her like she’s hung the moon. 

“Be nice, Bobcat,” he whispers in reply, hand slipping down to rest on her lower back. “Don’t scare her off yet.”

“As if,” she mutters out of the corner of her mouth, but Logan merely chuckles. 

Glancing between Veronica and Logan’s whispers and Wallace’s beaming face, Mac finally forges ahead with the conversation. 

“So, uh, Shae, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer. I work for Latham & Watkins.”

Logan’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline and Mac’s eyes go wide. Veronica’s sure her face looks equally impressed. 

“That’s awesome. Veronica’s a lawyer, too,” Mac blurts, and Veronica tries not to cringe. 

“I’m not, not really,” she puts in. “I’m just a legal consultant sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s the first thing I heard from Wallace.” Shae gives him a wide smile. “He talks about you all the time.”

“What can I grab you guys to drink?” Logan stands, gets orders for a Bud for Wallace and a martini for Shae, and mouths, “Be nice,” at Veronica one more time before heading off to the bar. 

_When am I ever not nice to Wallace’s girlfriends?_

Affronted, Veronica tosses her hair and focuses on the conversation. Shae’s in the middle of explaining what she’s currently working on and Mac nods. 

“So.” She pins Wallace with her stare. “How did you two meet?”

“Would you believe at Java the Hut?” Wallace grins. “We both ordered the same thing and met at the counter when they called it for pick up.”

“Double shot mocha with extra whip cream?” 

Shae bursts out laughing at Veronica’s comment. “She does know you well, Wallace. And it’s a million calories, but so good, I can’t resist.”

“It’s not everyday you meet a beautiful woman who has excellent taste in coffee,” Wallace continues as Shae dimples, “so I bought her a muffin and that was that.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it to your BFF?” Veronica flutters her eyelashes, folding her hands under her chin, and tries to appear innocent. 

“Yeah, right.” Wallace wags his finger in her face. “You’d have run a background check on her in five seconds flat.”

“I don’t see the problem.”

Veronica holds her palms up, shrugs, and Mac jumps in. 

“Yeah, Wallace, some of us appreciate having our potential dates screened. Keeps out the weirdos.”

“Speaking of the weirdos.” Logan sets drinks down in front of Wallace and Shae, then jerks his thumb at the person behind him. “Shae, watch out for this one.”

Tossing his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes, Dick Casablancas sticks out his hand and greets Shae. 

“Welcome to the club! Glad to see you have drinks, make sure you get your dance on, too. Especially you pretty ladies. We have a reputation to maintain here at Lush.” Laughing at his own comment, Dick claps Logan on the back. “It’s good to have you back, man. Thanks for coming to see everything tonight.”

Veronica refuses to meet Logan’s eye. Making Dick Casablancas happy is still not high on her list, but she doesn’t mind enjoying the benefits of a night out with Logan. She can’t help but watch as Logan tosses back the rest of his scotch, the long column of his throat on display. A man’s neck shouldn’t be this sexy, and yet warmth coils low in her belly. This might be better than a night in sweatpants, after all. 

Catching her watching over the rim of his glass, Logan winks, slow and sultry, and sets the empty drink down on the table. 

“Ready to dance?” 

“One second.” 

Veronica finishes her own drink, tries to cool her jets, then places her hand in Logan’s waiting palm. Wallace and Shae follow suit but Mac hangs back.

“Come on, Mackie.” Dick tugs on her elbow. “I’ll wingman for you, if you want. Just show me who you’re in the mood for tonight.”

Laughing, Mac rolls her eyes but seems okay with the idea so Veronica allows Logan to lead her out to the noisy, crowded dance floor. 

Going clubbing is certainly not one of their normal activities these days but Veronica has to admit it is fun to enjoy both drinks on the house and Logan’s gaze on her. When she bought this blue dress, she wasn’t sure where she’d wear it, but she’s definitely getting her money’s worth out of it tonight. Based on his response, it’s her new “getting lucky” dress. 

Bodies pressed together, his hand on her back slides lower, resting on the top of her ass, and she twines her arms around his neck. Dancing with Logan is a kind of foreplay all on its own. Every time his gaze locks on hers, she swears the temperature rises in the room. She can’t wait to get him home and— 

“Hey, look. It’s our international friends, at ten o’clock.”

Turning her body in his arms, Logan points her in the direction he indicates. Jake and Leslie Doyle are visible through the crowd.

They don’t look out of place—Leslie in a wide-legged, sleeveless purple jumpsuit and Jake all in black, fitted v-neck under a blazer—but they don’t seem like they are here to party. Neither has a drink and they scan the crowd with purpose. 

Catching her eye, Jake scowls and moves towards them. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” she calls over the music. “Just checking out the tourist destinations?”

“Something like that,” Jake mutters, and Leslie frowns. 

“We did some digging,” she begins, “and we think the owner of this club is involved with our cases. Richard Casablancas, Junior.”

* * *

  
“You think Dick kidnapped Ruby Jetson?”

Logan paces the sidewalk outside Lush, where Veronica dragged them so they could be heard. 

Jake crosses his arms over his chest and a muscle jumps in his jaw. 

“It’s not my fault you’re apparently friends with the sleeveen who owns this club. I’m just telling you what we discovered.” 

Veronica and Logan exchange confused glances at his word choice.

“A sleeveen is like a crook, sorry,” Leslie explains, tapping the toe of her strappy silver stiletto on the pavement. “We don’t actually know anything about the kidnapping. We’ve just been following leads.”

Logan’s eyes flash but Veronica intervenes before he can say anything. 

“I need you to explain this again because it doesn’t make sense.”

Jake exhales impatiently. “We did some digging; Maurice Becker’s niece is one of the investors in your friend’s club.”

“Okay,” Veronica draws the word out. “So? That means he’s dirty?”

 _I can’t believe I’m defending Dick Casablancas._

But it’s one thing for Veronica herself to accuse Dick of crimes—it feels different when someone else does it. For all his faults, he’s Logan’s best friend. So they’re going to need a little more proof this time around. 

“Becker’s niece has been his business partner before,” Jake explains, forehead creased in a frown. “When I first tracked him down, they were working together.”

“You’d know all about Karen’s business, wouldn’t ya?” Leslie mutters darkly, glaring at him. 

“Look, Leslie, that was a long time ago. You and I weren’t even a thing back then.” 

Veronica raises her eyebrows, very interested in hearing more, as Leslie huffs. 

“Likely story.”

“Because it’s true!” Jake insists.

“Back to my friend, please,” Logan spits out through gritted teeth. Fists clenched at his side, he looms closer to Jake. 

But Jake doesn’t back down, instead stepping closer and getting in Logan’s face. 

“I checked out people connected to Becker and found a tie to Neptune. Now I’m here asking questions.” With a sneer at Veronica, he adds, “This is what good detectives do. Although since you two obviously have a relationship with this crook, I shouldn’t be surprised to find out you’re dirty, too.”

Logan shakes his head and Veronica thinks for a second that he’s going to let it go. Jake smirks at him, relaxing his posture as if he’s won, and that’s all it takes. The tension coiled in Logan snaps and he punches Jake, landing a hit on the jaw. With a growl, Jake crashes into Logan, knocking him to the ground and they tussle, rolling around. 

Veronica gasps at the sudden escalation and locks eyes with Leslie. What she sees reflected there seems to match her own emotions.

“We should stop them,” Leslie murmurs, rooted to the spot. Fists fly as both men struggle to gain the upper hand. 

“Yeah,” Veronica agrees, also not making a move to intervene. 

Logan fighting shouldn’t have this effect on her, probably. But Jake, while an asshole, is admittedly sexy, and the whole thing just does it for her. 

“Hey!” A burly club bouncer, biceps straining the limits of his tight suit, steps into view. “This is a classy joint. Take that somewhere else.”

“We’re already outside,” Leslie shoots back, unintimidated by him, and Veronica’s hit with a flash of admiration for this woman.

But the bouncer ignores them, insteading wading in to separate the two men. Holding them by their upper arms, he shakes them apart and Jake and Logan stand, glaring at each other like recalcitrant children. 

“Oh, Mr. Echolls. I didn’t know it was you.” Eyes widening, the bouncer releases Logan. 

Adjusting his suit jacket, Logan tries to brush the grime off himself while Veronica folds her arms across her chest. 

“I’ll take care of this problem,” the beefy security guy growls, shaking Jake’s arm and glaring. 

It’s tempting to let the bouncer rough up Jake a little, but for Leslie’s sake she steps in. 

“That’s not necessary. You can let him go. We’ll just head back inside and speak to Mr. Casablancas.” 

Spinning on her four inch heel, Veronica grabs Logan’s arm, harder than strictly necessary. 

“I can’t believe you almost got us kicked out of a club,” she hisses. 

Logan opens his mouth, probably to protest, but Jake cuts him off.

“Ask him about his investors!” He yells, shaking off the bouncer. Leslie glares daggers at him a few feet away. “Then you’ll see!”

“You know what?” Veronica marches back over to Jake, snarling in his face. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job. Come with us. Ask him yourself!”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been trying to do all night!”

“Stop right there, Jake Doyle.” The iron in Leslie’s voice halts them all in their tracks. “You’re the biggest stunned arse I’ve ever met, and if you think—”

“I knows you’re rotted with me, Leslie, but—”

“Rotted with you doesn’t even begin to cover it! I can’t believe you got in a fistfight outside a club.”

“Leslie, b’y, it wasn’t my fault.”

Veronica snorts in Logan’s direction. “I should send you over there to get chewed out, too. God knows you deserve it.”

“He deserves it, not me!” Logan protests, forehead wrinkling.

“You deserve each other! Fighting on the street like that.” Even if it was ridiculously hot, he’s still acting like an idiot. Reaching out, she grabs the other woman. “Leslie, I say we ditch ‘em. Let’s go.” 

Storming back into the club, they leave Logan and Jake speechless on the sidewalk.

* * *

“Let’s get you a drink!”

Leading Leslie to the bar, Veronica scans the crowd for her friends. After ordering two whiskeys on Dick’s tab, she clears her throat.

“So that was...intense.”

Waving her hand in the air, Leslie rolls her eyes. 

“I should probably apologize for Jake but I’m not gonna. He can be hot headed sometimes.” Leslie can’t keep the light out of her eyes or the rueful smile off her face. ”But I love him.”

If anyone understands the allure of a bad boy, it’s Veronica. 

“Obviously, he’s not the only one with a temper. They’re a pair. How did you two, um…?”

“End up together?” Leslie finishes for her. “Oh, it wasn’t easy.”

 _No one writes songs about the ones that come easy,_ echoes in Veronica’s head. 

“We met about eight years ago, soon after I was transferred to St. John’s. Through the job, ya know? Cops and P.I.s?”

Veronica nodded. “Mutual back scratching.”

“Exactly.” Leslie takes a sip of her drink. “The attraction was there from the beginning. But Jake was a mess. I didn’t trust him. So we dated other people but kept circling back to each other. Broke a lot of hearts along the way that I regret. It might have been better if I had just given in from the start but…”

Leslie shrugs and Veronica knows that feeling too. 

“But we got there eventually,” she continues. “And grew along the way. What about you and Logan?”

Finishing off her drink, Leslie sets the glass on the bar with a thunk. Veronica winces. She should have known this was coming. 

“Can I be honest?” Leslie gives her a conspiratorial wink. 

_Uh-oh. What’s coming next?_

She must take Veronica’s silence for assent. 

“I googled you, when we first met. And I have to confess, what I read on paper doesn’t match up with what I see in person.”

Veronica snorts a laugh. “On so many levels, right?”

Tipping her head back, Veronica finishes her drink. This tale requires it. 

“Short answer: Logan and I dated in high school and reconnected at a reunion two years ago. Long answer?”

At Veronica’s raised brow, Leslie nods. 

“It was similar to you and Jake, I suppose. Drawn to each other but a mess. Trust issues. I left Neptune to try to move on, but it didn’t work. So here we are.”

“But what about the murder trials?”

Veronica waves that question away. “Typical high school experience,” she jokes. 

“And the Vanity Fair piece?” 

Leslie’s a sly one, that’s for sure. She must be formidable in the interrogation room. 

“A lot of smoke and mirrors. Exaggeration.” Veronica clears her throat. “If we’re both being honest…I googled you, too. You dated the corrupt mayor? Really?”

“I didn’t know he was on the take at the time,” she mumbles. “I told you, avoiding Jake caused a whole host of problems.”

Leslie reaches out, taps Veronica’s hand resting on the bar. “And no ring?”

The club is suddenly stifling. She fans her flushed face. 

“Dick needs to invest in better air conditioning. We’re in southern California in July.”

But Leslie gives her a knowing look. “It’s not the worst thing in the world. Jake thinks that I married him because I got pregnant, but just between you and me, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.”

Veronica finds herself nodding, opens her mouth to ask more when Jake himself appears at Leslie’s side, glowering. 

“Any sign of this Casablancas fella?”

“I haven’t been looking.”

The frosty look she sends Jake cools even Veronica, and she’s glad she’s not on the receiving end of it. Part of her wants to stay and watch him grovel, but she spies the back of Logan’s very distinct neck through the crowd and pushes off the bar to go confront him.

“Hey, Rocky.” Grabbing his bicep, she spins him to face her. “What was that, earlier?”

“Even the best anger management courses fail around assholes, I suppose.”

He shrugs and she doesn’t have it in her to press the subject. He’s removed his suit coat and his white shirt sleeves are rolled up, revealing his forearms. Add in the way the shirt clings to his well-defined chest and his five-o’clock shadow, and her anger dissipates. Grabbing his hand, she’s about to drag him out to the dance floor with her when Jake Doyle gets in her way once again.

“Where’s your friend? I thought you said we could talk to him.”

Logan practically vibrates at Jake’s intrusion but Veronica lays her palm on his chest, then pushes up on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Let’s just take care of this and then I have all sorts of ideas for your pent up tension.” 

His eyes lock on hers, hot and full of promise for later. “Let’s go.”

Being petite can have its advantages, but getting through a crowd in a nightclub isn’t one of them. Thankfully Logan’s height and broad shoulders are on her side. Veronica follows his path back to their table. Finding it empty, he scans the dance floor.

“There!” Pointing, he strikes out through the crush of bodies towards the DJ. Veronica spots Mac, Wallace, and Shae as they get closer. Dancing in a circle, her friends are clearly enjoying themselves. 

“Veronica! Logan!” Mac shimmies over to Veronica, dimples visible as she grins. 

“You having fun? Doing okay?” Veronica questions.

“Yeah! This club is great! I hate to admit it outloud, but Dick has actually done an amazing job.”

“Speaking of Dick.” Logan grabs Mac, spins her out, then pulls her in for a dip. “Where did he go?”

Mac waves her hand, catches her breath as he pulls her up. “He got a phone call. What did he say, Wallace?”

Wallace stops dancing and tugs Shae into their conversation. “Something about his business partner, I think?” 

“Convenient,” Jake mutters, coming over to their group. “Sounds like he’s avoiding us.”

“He didn’t even know about you,” Logan shoots back. Mac and Wallace exchange glances, clearly wondering who the stranger is. 

“Your friend is connected somehow, I’m sure of it,” Jake growls, blue eyes flashing. 

“You’re wrong.” Veronica steps forward. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

* * *

“Thanks for coming, Mac.” Veronica opens the door wider and allows her friend to step inside. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Slipping off her sandals, Mac smooths her hands down her light blue shorts. “I’m still not entirely sure I understand why you needed me?”

Motioning her into the living room, Veronica settles on the couch, one foot tucked under her, and Mac follows.

“I just needed another person in Dick’s court.”

“Which is something I never thought I’d hear you say.”

“Yeah. I don’t have siblings but I guess it’s like how only you can make fun of your brother? Only I can accuse Dick of bad behavior.”

“Oh, I’m fine with other people making fun of Ryan.” Mac grins. “But I get the sentiment. I might not be good at defending Dick, though. Not used to it.”

“Me, neither,” Veronica commiserates. “We’re just having him over for a friendly dinner with Jake and Leslie. This way they can meet him, ask their questions, and find a new suspect to investigate.”

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Logan calls from the kitchen. “Veronica, can you set the table?”

Mac giggles. “He’s so domestic. Does he have a frilly apron?”

“Mac, on the good days, he doesn’t wear anything under it.”

“You’re a lucky woman.” Mac high-fives her as they stand. 

Grabbing the plates and silverware from the kitchen, Veronica sets them out as the doorbell rings again. 

“Go.” Mac shoos her. “I’ve got this.”

Wide grin on his face, Dick Casablancas stands on her front stoop, waiting for her to open the door. 

“Ronnie! Thanks for the invite. Super cool of you to have me over to hang with you and Logan.”

Wincing at the dreaded nickname, she lets him in. “Actually, Dick, we’re having a couple people over. You and Mac and, uh, some friends that are visiting.”

Trailing off, she wishes she had a good explanation for Jake and Leslie. It felt like a good idea at the time to let them question Dick in a controlled environment, but now she worries they are setting him up for an interrogation. 

He doesn’t seem to notice her hesitation, though. “Cool, cool.”

Pushing past her, he gives Logan an exuberant greeting in the kitchen. Before she closes the front door, Veronica spies Jake and Leslie approaching.

Beckoning them in, she shuts the door and rounds on them, finger in Jake’s face.

“Here are the ground rules. You are guests here, and Dick is Logan’s best friend. You can ask him questions, but don’t be a jerk, okay? The guys are in the kitchen.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns to Leslie. “Hey. Wanna come give me and Mac a hand?”

After making introductions and sitting down, they dig in. Jake and Leslie’s presence adds an awkward air, but Logan and Dick carry the conversation, discussing surfing, the Padres, and the latest developments on _Game of Thrones_. Eventually, the topic circles around to Dick’s club. 

“Thanks for coming the other night, man. What did you think?”

His eagerness reminds Veronica of a puppy and she fights her instinctive eye roll at all things Dick. 

But Logan nods, swallowing his bite of salad. “We had a great time. In fact—” 

Before he can elaborate, Jake jumps on the opportunity. “Yeah, we were there Friday night. Seemed very popular. Is business good? How much do you pull in on a night like that?”

Dick smiles and leans back in his chair. “We do all right. Who are you again?”

“Friend of my dad’s,” Veronica supplies. “P.I. visiting from out of town. We ran into them at Lush Friday night.”

Nodding, Dick puts a forkful of potatoes in his mouth and then speaks around them. “A Friday night like that, the club makes about fifty K.” 

“Wow, that’s really good business.”

Veronica shifts uncomfortably at Jake’s smug words and Logan frowns. 

“Yeah, it’s awesome.” Dick gives a cocky toss of his hair and smiles. “More like what you’d make at a spot in Vegas or L.A.”

“Is that normal? To make that much in Neptune, then?” Jake presses. 

“Neptune is—” Logan begins, but Dick interrupts. 

“Why, you thinking about opening a club?”

“We own a bar,” Leslie jumps in. “Back home in St John’s. But maybe we should expand our horizons if it’s that lucrative, eh?”

“We’d need more investors. How’d you find yours, Dick?” Jake emphasizes his name and Veronica’s stomach sinks. This isn’t going well. 

“Oh, my business manager, Tom. He set most of that up. I handle the aesthetic side of things and Tom oversees the finances.” Shaking his head, Dick continues, “Yeah, I don’t think the club would have survived without him. It was a rough go at first until Tom found me, asked if he could have the job.”

Veronica and Logan share a troubled look. 

“He approached you? Not the other way around?” Logan asks, leaning forward.

Dick scratches his head. “Yeah, man. Wandered in my office one day and offered to help.”

“Did you run a background check on him?”

“Of course, Ronnie,” he scoffs. “I might not be a computer whiz like Mackie, but I know how to do a Google search.”

Veronica and Mac both try to speak at the same time but Jake cuts them off, eyes full of suspicion.

“You didn’t think it sounded too good to be true?”

“Where’s the scam?” Dick shrugs. “I’m making moo-laa.”

“A partner doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong,” Logan defends, clapping Dick on the shoulder. “Everyone needs investors.”

“Maybe we should talk to this business partner. About the bar,” Leslie improvises, sending Jake a pointed look. 

“I definitely think so,” he agrees. 

Veronica wishes she could argue, but it’s starting to sound like a good idea to her, too. 

* * *

  
Veronica looks up as the door to the Mars Investigations office opens. Jake and Leslie Doyle enter, proceeding to make themselves at home on her couch. 

“Well, that’s a sleeveen if I ever met one.”

Jake relaxes his arms across the back of the sofa and Leslie perches next to him. 

“Uh, what’s a sleeveen?” Veronica rolls the kinks out of her neck. She’s been sitting at her desk for hours, looking for any trace of Ruby. The meditation retreat has no record of her checking in, so now she’s trying to retrace her last steps on the day she disappeared. 

“A crook,” Leslie supplies, pursing her lips. “And he’s right. That Tom fella is bad news.”

If it were just Jake, Veronica could brush it off. But Leslie, too?

“What makes you say that?”

“Real slippery character. We pretended to be interested in expanding our bar, right? He wanted to know all about our operations but couldn’t get a word out of him about his business plans or investors. It’s fishy.”

“It’s privately owned so—”

“I know you don’t want to believe us.” Shifting, Jake pulls a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “But I looked into money laundering. Nightclubs are one of the typical businesses involved, and overseas investors are another red flag.”

Trying to cover her surprise at his research, Veronica stands, comes around to the front of her desk and sits on the edge.

“We’re not even sure about the investors,” she protests, “and you were there. The club was packed. This isn’t a deserted laundromat that reports a billion dollars of profit.”

“But it is cash, mostly,” Leslie muses. “Much harder to trace.”

“How’s your missing person?” Jake gestures at her desk, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

Veronica huffs out a breath. “I’ve got nothing. The police aren’t convinced she’s missing but friends, family, her employer—no one has heard from her. Where is she?”

“Look, Veronica.” Jake’s blue eyes burn with intensity, locked on her. “If Becker has her, it’s bad news.”

Leslie lays a hand on his shoulder, voice soft. “When Jake got in his way, Becker locked him in a shipping container and sent him to Mexico. It was two months before he made it home.”

The silence hangs heavy in the air. Veronica can’t even imagine. 

“Okay, that’s awful. But beyond her card at the docks, we have no evidence that Ruby is connected to your guy. Or that your guy is connected to Dick.”

Jake hops up to pace. “What we really need is to see his books.”

“The club’s financial records?”

“When money laundering is happening, there’s two sets,” Leslie explains. “The real transactions and the inflated ones that get reported to the government.”

“If we could get in the office after hours, have a look around…” Jake trails off, implication clear. 

Veronica weighs her options. Would Dick show her his finances if she asked? He’d do anything for Logan—give him a kidney if he needed it—so yeah, she could probably use that connection. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’d show her the illegal set, if he even knows it exists. 

If Logan finds out she’s considering this, he’ll be upset at her for doubting Dick. Not to mention the privacy violation. 

_All the more reason to check it out and make sure everything is fine, Veronica. To protect Logan. If Dick knows more than he’s letting on, Logan would be devastated._

Grabbing her phone off her desk, she shoots him a quick text. _Working late tonight. Don’t wait up._

Then turning to Jake, she nods decisively. 

“Okay. I’m in.”

* * *

  
Lush is not nearly as busy on a weeknight as it was on Friday, but that works to their advantage. There is less security, and it’s easy to slip upstairs to the balcony and sneak into the offices. 

Veronica and Leslie play lookout while Jake picks the lock in-–what she will never admit is–-record time. Using her cell phone flashlight, she scans the space. Filing cabinets line the back wall, and a large desk sits in the center of the room. 

“Start with the desk drawers, I guess?” she suggests.

Making quick work of those locks, too, Jake pulls out a large, old-fashioned ledger and sets it on the desk. 

“See what you can learn about the finances. I’m gonna look for a second one.”

Leslie flips it open and starts running her finger down the columns, using her own phone to illuminate it. Veronica leans over her shoulder to peek. 

“If it were me,” Jake muses, rattling the locked file cabinet, “I’d hide the real one somewhere close by.”

He pulls his picks out of his pocket again but Veronica halts him, digging a key ring out of her clutch purse. 

“Here ya go.” She tosses it to him. “See if you can find the key.” 

Jake’s eyebrows practically hit the ceiling as he catches the ring. 

“Tricks of the trade,” she murmurs, turning back to the ledger. Now is not the time to explain her high school career. 

As she does, she spies an oil painting on the far wall and shines her light on it. ‘Water Lilies’ feels out of place in the spartan office. She moves to inspect it. 

“Or this could be where they’d hide things in plain sight,” she murmurs. 

Sure enough, when she runs her hands along the frame, the picture has a catch. Releasing it, the art swings open like a door, revealing a safe. 

“Can you crack it?”

Jake abandons the filing cabinets, comes to stand next to her, staring at the box. He shrugs. “I can try. Before I start, do you have any suggestions for possible combinations?”

Thinking over Dick’s life, there are a lot of dates that could be significant for tragic reasons. But there’s really only one important person left. 

“Three, thirty, eighty-eight.” Logan’s birthday. 

“It only goes up to thirty.”

“Three, thirty, eight, then?”

Spinning the dial, Jake is rewarded with a click. 

“Wow, that was easier than I expected.”

 _Remind Dick to change that,_ she thinks. 

“Bingo.”

Veronica’s stomach sinks as Jake pulls out a matching ledger, this one red, and sets it on the desk next to the original. 

“Leslie, find the same day so we can compare. Maybe something last week.”

As they flip through the pages, Veronica holds her phone up to give some light, and then an entry catches her eye. Squeezing in between them, she runs her finger over it. 

“KMD Flowers. Ruby’s employer.”

“A solid connection to your missing girl. And see, that amount is inflated in that ledger,” Jake points, “and lower in the red one.”

_Shit shit shit._

Snapping a quick picture with her phone, Veronica considers the implications. _What has Dick gotten himself into this time? And what—_

“Security!” Startled, she jumps and her heart races. “You’re under arrest!”

* * *

  
Sighing, Veronica shifts on the uncomfortable wooden chair in the sheriff’s department and tugs at the hem of her black cocktail dress. This...is embarrassing. All the goodwill she’s built up with Sheriff Langdon and her deputies is undoubtedly out the window after she got caught breaking and entering. Her fate really rests with—

“Dick!” Jumping up as he strides in, she hurries to his side. “This was really a huge misunderstanding. I’m—”

“A huge misunderstanding?” He cuts her off, face red. “You triggered the silent alarm and got caught breaking into my office with your P.I. friends. What am I not understanding?”

_When you put it that way…_

“I was trying to prove you were innocent, Dick.” She drops her voice to a harsh whisper. “But money laundering? Really?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffs. “But points for creativity. You’ve never accused me of that before.”

“We found the second ledger in the safe.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she glares at him but he doesn’t back down. 

“I had the safe installed but I’ve never used it. Either way, you need to stay out of it, Veronica.” Shaking his head, he deflates. “I’m not pressing charges, although I should. I don’t want to hurt Logan like that, though, and for some reason he loves you.”

Her mouth falls open. “Look, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He turns to walk away, towards the intake desk. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to your new P.I. friends, either. But don’t come by the club for a while.”

“Dick, wait.” She grabs his arm and spins him around to face her. “There’s something bad going on here. I hope to God you aren’t involved, because—”

“Are you threatening me, Ronnie?”

“No!” She pleads. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble when the truth comes out.”

“Well, I didn’t do anything wrong,” he shakes her off and walks away, “so I should be fine.”

“I hope that’s true,” she mutters to his retreating back. 

* * *

  
The next morning, Logan sneaks out for a jog before Veronica can intercept him. He had been silent when her cab dropped her off at home, refusing to speak to her. Dick had clearly called. The house is empty; Pony must be with him. 

Setting the coffee pot to brew, she makes him a veggie omelette and fries up some bacon. A breakfast peace offering. He was royally pissed last night, but he’ll have to sit down and let her explain. She was just looking out for Dick, after all.

The keypad beeps and Pony’s tags jangle as they come in. The dog heads straight to her water dish in the kitchen and Logan follows, not making eye contact with Veronica. 

“Hey, how was your run?” She tries to make her voice chipper but not too peppy. Ignoring this won’t make it go away, but she doesn’t want to tiptoe around him, either.

“Mmm.” Logan fills a glass with water, and chugs it. 

“I made some breakfast. I thought we could sit down and—”

“Not hungry.” Brushing past her, Logan heads to their bedroom, the sounds of the shower filling the silence. Veronica stares at the untouched omelettes.

 _Shit._ He’s more upset than she realized.

“Logan.” Barging in the bathroom, she perches on the counter and speaks over the spray. “You have to talk to me.”

But apparently, he doesn’t. He ignores her until the water turns off, then grabs his towel. Drying off, he wraps it around his waist in silence before sighing. He runs a hand over his wet hair, eyes anguished.

“Veronica, how could you? You broke into Dick’s office!”

“Look, I—”

 _I didn’t want you to find out,_ her inner voice supplies. 

“I just wanted to prove to Jake and Leslie that he wasn’t involved,” is what she says aloud, placating.

“You could have just asked to see his books. I’m sure he would have given them to you.”

“That’s not how a P.I. would see it.” Hopping off the counter, she steps closer. “And you’re totally ignoring the fact that we did, in fact, find two financial ledgers. They don’t match, Logan.”

The muscle jumps in his clenched jaw and she continues. 

“I guess Dick didn’t tell you that part when he called last night, huh? I don’t want him to get in trouble, but it doesn’t look good.”

Veronica tries to rest a calming hand on Logan’s bare forearm, but he shakes her off. Heading into the bedroom, he starts flinging clothes from the dresser.

“So, what? You’re just gonna accuse him of kidnapping, drug dealing, and weapons smuggling, now, too?”

“Hey, I didn’t fabricate this evidence, Logan.” Her temper flares. She’s been patient long enough and he’s being ridiculous. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it, but I can’t ignore the fact that Dick’s club might be a front for a money laundering operation.”

“I just—” Breaking off, he tugs on boxers and jeans. “Couldn’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt for once?”

“I already did! I defended him to Jake and Leslie, and it turns out, I was wrong! I think it’s Dick you should be having this conversation with, not me.”

Tossing on a tight black t-shirt, Logan finally spins to face her.

“Dick’s always been there, even when there was no one else.”

Veronica hears Logan’s unspoken words. Dick was a part of Logan’s life when she wasn’t. The only constant, really, and the only support he had before he joined the Navy. Maybe one of the only reasons he’s still alive. She’d be lying if she said that doesn’t sting. Throwing up her hands, she rolls her eyes. 

“Oh, great. Dick is a criminal but it doesn’t matter because he’s loyal.”

“You never understand when it comes to him.” Logan crosses his arms over his chest. ”I can’t do this right now. I’m going flying.”

“What? You don’t work today. I don’t think the Navy will just let you borrow a jet whenever you want.” She knows it’s a dumb thing to yell about it but she can’t seem to stop her voice from rising.

“The airstrip. I’m taking up the prop plane.”

For his twenty-ninth birthday last year, Logan bought himself a Cessna 172 Skyhawk. He rents a spot at a small hangar on a private airstrip outside of Neptune and goes flying whenever he wants a change from his F-18 Hornet. Veronica’s been up with him a few-–truly exhilarating–-times since he bought it, but he hasn’t taken it out for a spin since returning home from his deployment. And if anyone knows classic avoidance tactics, it’s Veronica.

Huffing a sigh, she stalks into the bathroom. 

“Fine. Maybe we should both cool off for a while,” she calls over her shoulder. “Catch you later, or whatever.”

If he answers over the sound of the shower, she doesn’t hear him.

* * *

  
“Veronica, Corny just came by.” Walking in late to the office, her dad’s frowning face greets her, piling on her already bad morning. “He’s very worried about this girl. I told him you’d call with updates. Please tell me you’ve found something?”

Veronica sighs and sits at her desk. “I don’t know, Dad. I think she’s connected to Dick’s club. I checked her schedule, and a delivery to Lush is one of her last-known whereabouts.”

Massaging her forehead, she debates the merits of another cup of coffee. 

“But it’s complicated,” her dad supplies, “because of the Casablancas kid.”

Normally, she’d be amused that Dick is thirty and her dad still refers to him as a kid. Now, though, it just underscores the connection. She’s known Dick since middle school. He’s clearly in way over his head, and she does want to help him– for Logan’s sake, if nothing else. But she also needs to find Ruby. 

“What about the sheriff’s department?”

At first, she thinks he’s asking about her visit last night. Flushing, she stammers. “It was an accident. No big deal.”

“I mean, do they have any leads on Ruby?” Her dad raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Clearing her throat, Veronica breezes past that little embarrassing moment. “I called on my way to work this morning. They still aren’t convinced there’s anything wrong. Corny is not a reliable witness.”

“Technically, that may be true but he’s kind and obviously devoted to Ruby. We’ve certainly had worse clients.” Keith rubs a hand over his bald head. “What are we missing?”

“That’s the question of the day, eh?” Jake and Leslie push through the door, coming to sit on the couch by Veronica’s desk. “More connections to Becker and your missing girl but still no leads on their actual whereabouts.”

Leslie sips her drink from Java the Hut and Jake stares at the ceiling. 

“You know–” Veronica starts, only to be cut off by the door again. 

“Veronica!” Logan skids into the office, eyes bright, and she can’t figure out how to process it. They just had a fight. Why does he look so energized? 

“Yes?”

His face falls at her hesitation, and she can practically see the moment he remembers they were upset with each other. Visibly shrugging it off, he plows forward. 

“You’ll never guess what just happened at the airstrip.”

Looking between the two of them, Keith raises his brows. Jake and Leslie lean forward on the couch. 

“Spill,” Keith encourages. 

Logan focuses on her dad, directing most of his story to him. 

“I was doing my pre-flight, and I overheard the guys next to me in the hangar. One of them mentioned Dick Casablancas, so I perked up, started eavesdropping.” Logan rubs the back of his neck, glancing at her from under his lashes. “They were talking about how dumb he is, totally clueless. Then they mentioned their shipping crates and how it was time to skip town. And get this—I checked their flight path with the tower. Their final destination? St. John’s, Newfoundland.”

Jake jumps up at his words, practically vibrating with excitement, and paces. “What did they look like?”

“The first guy was pretty average, I guess—brown hair, forties, unremarkable. The other guy was older, kinda gruff, had an Al Capone vibe going on, with a fedora.” Logan mimes setting a hat on his head. “White hair, Caucasian, probably in his sixties. He was definitely the boss, giving orders.”

Jake and Leslie share a look. 

“Becker,” he breathes. “The older man is definitely Becker. And the shipping containers most definitely contain the drugs and weapons he’s smuggling—maybe the missing woman, too. But who’s the other buddy?”

Leslie shrugs. “One of his henchmen, I suppose.”

“I’d bet everything it’s Tom, Dick’s business partner. I knew he wouldn’t knowingly get involved in something like this.” Logan raises his eyebrows at her and shoves his hands in his pockets. Annoyance with his smug face wars with excitement over the lead. 

Blonde curls bouncing, Leslie jumps to her feet. “Jake, do you know what this means?”

His eyes shine with the thrill of the case. “We’re headed home to Newfoundland.”

Putting her hand on Veronica’s arm, Leslie grabs Logan and pulls him over. “And you’re coming with us.”

* * *

There are some advantages to dating a millionaire playboy-turned-decorated naval officer. The ability to charter a private jet at a moment’s notice is one of them. Grabbing her carry on, Veronica tries not to gawk at the sleek plane as she hurries after Logan. The extravagant gesture is an unspoken apology; she accepts it, but the air is still strained between them.

The day has been a whirlwind with no time to resolve things after their fight earlier. Veronica dropped off Pony with her dad, threw some clothes in a bag, and jumped in the car. Now, walking up the steps of the airplane and buckling her seatbelt next to Logan, she runs her hands over the buttery soft leather seats, and the tension returns.

Veronica’s better than she used to be about communicating; since Logan has been deployed for much of their relationship, she really had no choice. Avoidance is still her first impulse, though, and she stares out the window, not seeing the runway, until Logan puts his hand over hers. 

“So, about this morning.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I get that you were just doing your job.”

Squeezing his fingers, she wishes they were alone so she could kiss him. It’s a private plane, but Jake and Leslie are just across the aisle. “Thanks. I’m sorry I wasn’t very sensitive about your friendship with Dick.”

“For so long, he was all I had.” Logan shakes his head. “I’m really glad he’s not actually involved in this money laundering scheme.”

“Me, too.” Deciding she doesn’t care about the audience, she gives him a quick peck on the lips. “Now we just have to prove it.”

“I have faith in you.”

His eyes shine with so much love, and she has to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat. Logan’s always had faith in her, even when she didn’t deserve it. Vowing to live up to it this time, she gives him another, deeper, kiss.

“Get a room!” Jake calls, throwing a mini pillow at them.

“Would if I could, man.” Logan tosses the pillow back, smirking.

Hiding a smile at their antics, Veronica pulls out her phone. The take off is smooth, and it’s not long before she can google St. John’s. The city is smaller than she’s used to, but is the center of the action in its remote province. Apparently, St. John’s is the capital of both Newfoundland –the island– and Labrador, which is connected to mainland Canada. Since St. John’s is located on the island, it has a large port and a corresponding shipping industry. 

Anything else, she figures she’ll have to learn on her own or from her companions. According to the pilot’s announcement, it’s almost a twelve hour flight with two stops for fuel. Grabbing the blanket under her seat, she tries to settle in. She might as well get some rest before they arrive.

* * *

  
Leslie’s right.

Veronica steps off the plane at the St. John’s International Airport and shivers. It’s much colder here than she expected. Newfoundland summers are closer in temperature to Neptune winters; as she shrugs into her black leather jacket, she’s glad Leslie tried to prepare her. 

Clearing the customs checkpoint, a tall, thin man pops around the corner, yelling and waving.

“Jake! Jake, over here!”

Jake rolls his eyes as he makes his way to their excited welcoming committee of one. “Des, we see you.”

Leslie, however, smiles and gives him a hug.

“Thanks for picking us up, Des.” She nudges Jake. Glaring, he adds his gruff thanks. Des pulls him into an obviously unwanted hug, while Veronica tries to hide a smile.

Clearing her throat, Leslie gestures between them. “Des, this is Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars.”

She and Logan take turns having their hands enthusiastically pumped while Leslie continues. “Des Courtney works for Doyle & Doyle Investigations.”

Des is young, probably in his early twenties. In an odd way, he reminds Veronica of Pony—eager and gangly. 

“Works for?” He puts his arm around Leslie. “I’m family. Jake and Leslie are my aunt and uncle.”

“By marriage,” Jake growls. “By marriage only. And get off my wife.”

Des doesn’t seem phased by this as he waves away the argument. “I knows you’re happy to see me. And welcome! I can’t wait to show you around. While you’re here, you really have to see—”

“Des.” Leslie places a hand on his forearm. “We have work to do. Let’s talk on the way.”

Helping with their luggage, Des leads them to a blue muscle car in the parking lot. 

“Nuh-uh,” Jake protests when Des stands by the driver’s side door. “Who said you could drive her here in the first place?”

Mumbling, Des rolls his eyes and tosses Jake the keys. After wedging their suitcases in the trunk, they all manage to squeeze inside. It couldn’t be more different than Logan’s BMW or Veronica’s RAV-4, but the vintage ride suits Jake well.

“Are there even seatbelts back here?” Logan mutters under his breath, searching.

“Live a little, flyboy.” Stuffed in the middle between Des and Logan, Veronica clutches his arm tightly to keep from falling over as they peel out of the lot.

_We’re not in Neptune anymore, Toto._

* * *

  
The Doyle & Doyle Investigations office is not what Veronica had pictured. The wide open loft space is three flights above a bar in the middle of downtown. There’s room for a kitchenette and a sitting area with a couch, plus two desks and a large farmhouse table. Natural light streams in through the windows, and while it’s the opposite of her tiny, dark office, there’s still something familiar about it. Maybe it’s the cluttered stacks of files on the worn wooden desks—or maybe it’s just a P.I. thing. 

As they walk through the door, an older man jumps up from one of the desks to greet them. He’s probably in his late sixties, tall, with a halo of white hair around his head and kind brown eyes. He sticks his hand out and Veronica and Logan take turns shaking it.

“Malachy,” he says. Perhaps it’s another unique Newfoundland pronunciation because he says his name MalaKEY instead of MalaKAI like she’s used to.

Before Veronica can speak, a striking redhead bustles over and wraps Leslie in a hug.

“Rose! How are my babies?” Leslie’s eyes light up as she asks about her children, her love for them apparent on her face.

“They’re perfect, of course. I bet Aunt Tinny’s bringing them over as we speak.”

“Oh, I’ve missed them!”

After his hug, Jake places a kiss on her cheek and introduces her to Veronica and Logan simply as, “Rose.”

Another round of handshakes and smiles ensues, and then Rose busies herself getting them all settled around the long table in the middle of the room. Veronica’s surprised to find that she has a cup of tea in her hands.

“Glad to have you two home.” Rose perches next to Malachy. “Now, fill us in, please.”

“Right.” Jake leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Do you remember Donny Pearl? A few years back?”

“The insurance adjuster case?” Rose asks after a minute, recognition dawning in her eyes.

“Yep,” Jake confirms with a nod.

“Oh, I’d forgotten that one,” Malachy reminisces. “That was a low time for us, if you remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Jake waves him off, piquing Veronica’s interest. “The point is, Donny Pearl is actually Keith Mars. I didn’t know it at the time—I ran into him in the bar after the case was over and he filled me in. He’s actually a P.I. from California but didn’t have a license to practice in Canada and needed our help.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Malachy’s eyes widen in surprise.

“We had a lot going on. It’s not important.” Jake drums his fingers on the table. “Anyway, after our search for Becker brought us to California, we looked up Keith. Veronica is his daughter, and we think her case is connected to ours.”

Taking her cue, she jumps into the narrative. “I’m looking for a missing woman. We have reason to believe Becker kidnapped her and stuffed her into a shipping container, based on what happened to Jake.”

“What does Becker want with your missing girl?” Malachy asks. His gaze is sharp, assessing, and Veronica can see how his calm demeanor and astute outlook compliments his son well. She shrugs. 

“Still not sure about the why, but all signs point to her being here. Becker is involved with some money laundering in Neptune, too, and it’s personal. He invested in a friend’s business. We need to find Ruby but we also need proof our friend didn’t know about the crime.”

Malachy nods and she feels like she passed a test.

“So.” Des jumps up and wheels an old-fashioned green chalkboard into view. It’s covered with notes, printouts, maps, and pictures. “I’ve been going over the harbor manifest, and things don’t exactly match the information I’ve found. It’s tricky because containers move around a lot, but I think I can get you close to the crates you want, at least.”

“What do you suggest?” Logan asks, squeezing Veronica’s thigh underneath the table. 

Before anyone can answer, three tiny people rush into the room, clamoring, “Mommy, Mommy!” and throw themselves at Leslie.

“Whoa! Hey!” Jake catches one of them, plants a kiss on top of a blond head. “What about me?”

“Sorry! Sorry, they got away from me,” a young woman calls from the doorway. She makes her way over, giving Des’s shoulder a squeeze, and sits at the long table. “How was California?”

“Fruitful, hopefully.” Leslie juggles her lapful of children, smiling down at them.

Jake gestures between them and the young brunette. “Tinny, this is Logan and Veronica. They’re involved in our case. Tinny’s my niece, married to Des. She’s a cop with the RNC.”

_Talk about keeping it in the family._

Tinny nods hello. 

“And this,” he picks up the child from his lap, “is Michael. Say hi, Mikey.”

The little boy stares back at them with big brown eyes and waves solemnly.

Jake puts his hand on one small head with brown pigtails in Leslie’s lap. “This is Emily Ann and that,” he indicates the other head with blonde ringlets, “is Margaret. Say hello, girls.”

The two children buried in Leslie’s chest turn to face them and one of them utters a tiny, “Hi.”

Crooked grin spreading across his features, Logan gives them a little finger wave. They dimple back. _He’s simply irresistible to women of all ages._

“Alright, munchkins, let’s go.” Rose’s tone is full of love as she claps her hands together and the three children turn to her excitedly. After a flurry of activity, bestowing final hugs on their parents—and a final wave to Logan—they hurry to follow their grandmother.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jake apologizes, a small smile on his face as he watches his children leave.

“No, they’re cute,” Logan murmurs, his eyes soft.

“So where do we go from here?” Veronica asks, changing the subject before she can think too much about the look on Logan’s face and what it’s doing to her insides. 

Jake glances at everyone around the room. “I think it’s time to check out the docks.”

* * *

  
The St. John’s harbor couldn’t be more different than the port in Neptune. Veronica glances around from the backseat of Jake’s blue GTO. Dirty and industrial, yes, but also surrounded by grass and pine trees with rocky cliffs in the background; it’s not what she expected. Nestled next to cargo barges are cruise liners, there’s an old-fashioned lighthouse in the distance and… _are those castle ruins?_

“How old is this place?” she wonders aloud. But Jake’s tires crunch on gravel as he pulls to a stop. Her history lesson will have to wait.

Parking next to them, a portly, bald man in a bullet-proof vest lumbers out of his cruiser and greets Leslie as they exit the vehicle. His vest proclaims “police” across the back and “RNC” in the front.

“Hood, thanks for meeting us. These are the two Americans I told you about.” Leslie waves at Logan and Veronica and they nod hello. “Hood’s my partner.” 

“Port Authority doesn’t really have its own police force, so it falls under RNC jurisdiction,” she explains before turning back to Hood. He pulls a printed map out of his pocket and examines it before Leslie takes it, turns it right-side up, pointing. “There. That’s where Des thinks the suspicious container should be.”

“How exactly did he access that information?” Her partner raises an eyebrow.

“Uh, Hood,” Jake interjects, rushing over to them. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Do you wax your head or just lotion it?”

Glaring, Hood opens his mouth, but Leslie points at the map and jumps in before he can speak. 

“It’s just a few rows over from here, actually. Stay behind us.”

Shoving the map at Jake, she draws her weapon from her shoulder holster. Hood does the same, and they creep down the aisle of shipping containers until they get to a blue one that matches the serial number Des suggested. Veronica, Jake, and Logan hang back as ordered. 

“Open it.” Leslie keeps her gun trained on the crate while Jake fiddles with the handle, unlatching it and swinging open the large doors.

Veronica peers around Logan and Hood, trying to get a glimpse inside. Before she can register what she sees in the empty crate, Jake yells and dives on top of them, sending her and Logan crashing to the ground.

“There’s a bomb!”

* * *

  
Since Veronica is already on the ground, the explosion that rocks the shipping crate doesn’t have a chance to knock her off her feet. Underneath the pile of bodies, she barely feels any debris raining down, but the sudden heat is intense and the sound is deafening.

Pushing at whomever is on top of her, she’s gratified when they roll away. Taking a deep breath, Veronica’s overcome with a coughing fit as smoke fills the air.

“Come on, babe, move out of the way.” Logan grabs her, lifting, and they stumble to take shelter behind a nearby container. While she’s still trying to catch her breath, his hands fumble over her body before he crushes her in a hug. 

“Leslie!” Jake’s voice is sharp, full of worry. 

The wind shifts, clearing the smoke, and her eyes stop watering. Jake and Hood crouch on the gravel next to Leslie.

“Leslie, are you okay? Please be okay!”

Sliding his hands under his wife, Jake cradles her to his chest. Scooping her up, he runs over to them and lays her on the ground as her lashes flutter.

“Oh, thank God, you’re okay.” Jake buries his face in Leslie’s neck as she clumsily pats his head. The knot in Veronica’s chest loosens.

“I’m fine, let me up.”

Leslie struggles to a sitting position, legs splayed out in front of her, and brushes dirt off her black blazer and jeans.

“Come’ere, let’s see you.”

Logan squats down next to Leslie and holds her chin, tilting her face in various directions, examining her eyes. Not really accustomed to seeing Logan at work, Veronica can forget that he’s a military officer, trained for combat and emergencies. She’s impressed at how good he is in a crisis.

Jake hovers, eyes sharp with anxiety as Logan looks her over.

“You may need a professional opinion, but I don’t see any of the obvious signs of head trauma. Everybody else okay?”

Exhaling, Jake stands and helps Leslie up. Veronica and Hood confirm they’re fine as sirens echo. Hood pulls a walkie-talkie from his belt and speaks into it.

After embracing his wife, Jake turns to Logan and holds out his hand for a shake. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You jumped on top of us back there, took the brunt of that. Are you okay?”

Jake shakes off his concern and a look of understanding passes between them. She has to admit, almost getting blown up together makes some of their earlier disagreements less important. 

Pulling her close to him, Logan rubs Veronica’s back. “At least Ruby wasn’t in there.”

“I guess we’re back to square one. Maybe she’s—” 

“Veronica! Logan!”

Stumbling around the corner of a red shipping container, Ruby rushes towards them, flinging herself into Logan’s arms.

“You found me!” Tearfully, she strokes Logan’s face as he tries to back away and yet keep her from falling down at the same time.

“Ruby, were you in that container?”

Without taking her gaze off Logan, she nods at Veronica, who has to fight from rolling her eyes.

Jake raises an eyebrow at the display, then points to an approaching ambulance. “Good. Everyone can get sorted at the hospital and we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

* * *

  
A perky brunette with a wide smile and white doctor’s coat bustles into the ER exam room, but stops short when she sees the crew of people gathered there.

“Oh, Lord, Jake, what have you done now?”

“Nikki, it’s not my fault!”

Glancing at Leslie, she laughs. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one. I’m glad he’s your problem these days.”

“It’s good to see you, Nikki.” Leslie sends her an affectionate smile. As an aside to Veronica, she adds, “Dr. Nikki Renholds. Jake’s ex-wife.”

“Should we ask for a different doctor?” Veronica offers, hoping to diffuse possible tension.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Nikki’s a great doctor and we’re friends.”

Veronica tries to imagine how she’d handle it if Logan had an ex she saw regularly. Probably not well. But Leslie isn’t trying to claw her eyes out, so maybe it’s okay. 

“Now.” Dr. Reynolds flips through the paperwork she’s holding. “Miss Jetson, is it?”

Ruby, resting in her hospital bed, nods, and Nikki continues.

“You’re slightly dehydrated, so we gave you some fluids. With some rest and care for a few days, you should be fine. You’re an awfully long way from home. Care to tell us how that happened?”

Glancing at Logan, Ruby’s eyes widen dramatically and Veronica wants to snatch every hair off her head, dehydrated or not. She settles for clenching her fists instead.

“I made my usual delivery to Dick’s club on Tuesday, but I overheard one of the guys in the office talking about ‘the shipment’ and ‘getting the money clean.’ It sounded suspicious so I followed him.”

“Why?” Veronica pins Ruby with a stare. “Why did you think that would be a good idea? Why wouldn’t you go to the police?” 

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes. “Oh, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to go off on a crazy hunch like that? I could be a P.I., too, Veronica Mars.”

“Then what happened?” Jake prompts.

“Who are you?” Ruby swivels to examine him. 

“Jake.” He points at himself, then his wife. “Leslie. We’ve been working with Veronica to find you and the fella who kidnapped you.”

“Where the hell am I?” 

“Newfoundland.”

“What, like, Canada?” Her mouth drops open in genuine shock. “How did that happen?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Veronica interjects through clenched teeth, trying to get Ruby back on track. “What did you do next?”

“So I followed Tom, and he ended up at the docks. He was examining this shipping crate, full of weapons and drugs. I tried to snap some pictures on my phone, but, I don’t know, he must have heard me or something. He attacked me, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in that shipping crate.”

“How did you get out before the bomb went off?” Leslie asks, moving closer to Ruby’s bed. “Hood just texted me, the crate is empty. No evidence there.”

“And how did you survive in there that long?” Nikki puts in, consulting Ruby’s chart again. 

“When the crate finally stopped moving, two goons opened the door and tossed in some food and water. I wasn’t tied up, but they knocked me out again after I ate. The next time I woke up, all the stuff in there was gone, and I was alone. I managed to get the back door unlatched, though.” Giving Logan a sly smile, she adds, “All those YouTube videos I watched paid off. See, it’s not just Veronica. Anybody can do this detective stuff.”

He opens his mouth, but thankfully Jake speaks first. 

“Did you overhear them talking at all? We’re glad you’re safe, but we’d really love to catch the person responsible.”

“Anything you heard might be helpful,” Logan encourages, and Ruby beams at him. “Names or locations?”

Her face falls. “They said something about meeting up with ‘the boss’ later, back at their rooms. Nothing specific.”

“You’re very lucky. We’ll take good care of you here and let you go home to California soon.” Nikki points to the visitors in the room. “And the rest of you. You can stay for five more minutes, but then I’m kicking you out. She needs to rest.”

“I promise, Nikki, just a few more questions.” Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Jake shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve heard that one before, too,” she mutters on her way out the door. “Five minutes, I mean it.”

Glum silence descends in the room, as Veronica mulls over Ruby’s scant information. Technically, she solved her case, but there’s still the matter of proving Dick didn’t know about the money laundering scheme. _And anyone who thinks it’s okay to lock people up in crates and ship them across the ocean should be drawn and quartered._

“So tell us about Becker.” She settles into one of the plastic chairs in Ruby’s room, staring at Jake and Leslie. “He’s back on his home turf now. What patterns are there? How have you caught him before?”

Jake runs a hand over his stubble. “Becker was definitely trying to destroy the evidence after he stashed the contraband. He could still be here, but he also could have skipped town after blowing up the container.” Raising a questioning brow to Leslie, he asks, “St. Pierre and Miquelon?”

Leslie must understand this code because she nods. “We’re keeping an eye on it. If he makes it back to French soil, we don’t have any jurisdiction.”

“They’re French islands just off the coast,” she adds at Veronica and Logan’s confused looks. “Unfortunately, the only pattern seems to be that there aren’t any. We’ve been over it all. He had a safe house in the city, a cabin in the woods, associates in all kinds of places.”

“All kinds of places…” Jake muses, then turns to Ruby. “Rooms. Are you sure they said they were meeting Becker at their rooms? They used that exact word?”

Ruby nods and Jake hops up out of his chair, his intense gaze swinging to Leslie.

“The Rooms! Great work, Jake.” 

Grabbing her radio off her belt, she hurries out the door. Veronica, Logan, and Ruby stare blankly at Jake. 

“Aren’t you going to fill us in?” Veronica demands.

“The Rooms is the name of a museum downtown.” His wide grin is triumphant, full of exhilaration at a clue and the thrill of the chase. “Let’s go nail the bastard.”

Jake starts for the hallway and Logan and Veronica jump up to follow, but Ruby’s hand snakes out to grab Logan first. 

“Logan! Wait. Don’t go.”

Veronica’s had enough of this. She’s glad Ruby’s okay but he’s _her_ boyfriend, after all. 

“Come on.” Giving in to a much-deserved eye roll at the antics, she tugs Logan towards her where he belongs. “Corny’s been worried sick about you, Ruby. You should call him. We’ve got a criminal to catch.”

* * *

  
“His hideout can’t be in a museum,” Logan protests, squeezing in next to her in Jake’s muscle car. Before they can finish securing their seat belts, the car roars to life. 

“No.” Leslie turns around from the front seat. “But I’m betting his safe house is nearby. It’s a big landmark. See?”

Pointing out the windshield, Leslie isn’t exaggerating. As they drive closer, the gigantic building looms, dominating the skyline. Cream brick with a red roof and a section of glass walls in the middle, The Rooms certainly makes an impression. Simple in design, it reminds Veronica of a very large barn. 

“So, what?” Logan asks, peering out the window. “We’re just gonna drive around until we find who we're looking for?”

Jake shrugs. “Usually works.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Leslie explains, “It’s really not that big of an area.”

It’s not the plan that Veronica would have adopted, but when in Rome and all. She doesn’t know Becker or St. John’s, so she’s not sure she has anything better to offer. Maybe Jake actually knows what he’s doing this time. 

Driving slowly so they can scan the scenery out the windows, Logan suddenly gasps and points. 

“There!” Pulling a baseball cap lower on his head, a man hustles into a small blue row house on the corner. “I recognize him from the airstrip.”

“You’re sure?” Leslie questions, already reaching for her walkie-talkie as Logan nods. “Jake, drive around the block so we don’t spook him.”

As they drive, she radios in the address. Veronica’s heart races and Logan grips her hand. When the car screeches to a halt, they throw off their seatbelts and jump out of the vehicle.

“Now, wait.” Leslie’s authoritative tone rings out, stopping her husband. “You’re all unarmed and we have no idea what to expect in there. You need to stay outside.”

“No way, Leslie. I’m not letting you go in by yourself,” Jake argues.

An unmarked silver sedan pulls up behind them. In a flurry of slamming doors, Des and Tinny pile out.

“I’ll back you up, Sergeant.” Tinny stands behind Leslie, weapon in her hand. 

Leslie nods. “You and Des, go around back.”

She scans the group assembled in front of her, gaze assessing. “Veronica and Logan, you, too. Jake, stay behind me. We’re going in the front.”

Veronica hurries to catch up with Logan’s long strides as they follow Des and Tinny around the ramshackle house. Blue paint has peeled off the wood siding and the filthy windows are all blocked by curtains, cardboard filling in holes in some places. 

Adrenaline thrums through her veins as they crouch in the bushes on either side of the cracked cement steps by the home’s back exit. 

“Police!” Leslie’s clear voice rings out from around front.

“I hope this is the right place or we’re gonna have to have to make some serious apologies,” Des mutters, fidgeting in place. Tinny just shakes her head at him. Veronica tries to stifle a giggle. 

It must be the correct house, because loud banging can be heard inside before the back door opens and three men tumble out, pushing and shoving. 

Extending one of his long legs, Logan trips the first man rushing out of the house. The other two land on top of him.

“Whoops.” Logan stares down at them, unrepentant.

“Becker. On your feet.” Tinny stands, legs braced apart, gun pointed at the men trying to escape. 

An older man with shaggy white hair picks himself up and retrieves a fedora off the ground before doffing it at her and setting it back on his head.

“Miss Doyle. How lovely to see you again.”

“It’s Officer Courtney to you. This is payback for the time you kidnapped me. Hands behind your back.” Her businesslike tone brokers no argument. “Des, could you…?”

Tinny inclines her head toward the three men, never taking her eyes off them, while Des grabs a pair of handcuffs from her back pocket. The two younger men lumber to their feet.

“Oh, hey, I‘d be happy to help, too.” Veronica rummages through her black messenger bag and pulls her own set of handcuffs out of the depths. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Then by all means.” Des gives her a courtly bow and Logan raises his eyebrows.

“Which one of you answers to the name Tom? Lied to my friend Dick?”

Two sets of eyes swivel to the man in the middle. Shifty, with thinning hair and prominent eyes, he takes off, trying to run. Before he makes it more than a few steps, Logan knocks him to the ground with a punch to the jaw.

“You’re friend’s an idiot,” he moans, holding his face. “Easiest swindle I’ve ever done.”

“Did he have any idea what was going on?” Veronica demands.

“Stupid, rich bastard was clueless.” 

“Get up,” Tinny barks, interrupting her interrogation. “I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

Veronica takes joy in roughly jerking Tom’s arms behind his back and slapping the cuffs on his wrists with a sharp click. 

“He might be a stupid, rich bastard, but he’s ours. Stay away from him.”

Des and Logan manhandle the other two, as the back door flies open again. Leslie bursts through, gun drawn, followed closely by Jake.

“Ah, excellent work.” Leslie tosses Logan another pair of handcuffs, and he smirks as he gets to cuff the man he’s holding.

“This is kinda fun,” he whispers to Veronica. “And hot. Wanna use some cuffs on me, later?”

“Shush.” But she bats her eyelashes at him and warmth coils in her belly. 

“Maurice Becker,” Jake drawls. “Good to see you again.”

“Jake Doyle. I should have known,” Becker snarls, eyes flashing.

“Yep. You should have. It’s not very nice to lock people in shipping containers and send them halfway across the world.”

“You’d know,” he spits. “Don’t worry, Jake, I still—” 

“Come on, now. I’m really gonna enjoy this.” Cutting him off, Leslie grabs Becker, rattling the cuffs. “Her Majesty’s Pen is more than you deserve.”

She and Tinny walk the criminals through the house as Jake sags against the stoop. 

“Good work, team.” He turns to Des, locking eyes. “Pint?”

Des nods. “Pint.”

* * *

  
After a flurry of activity, getting everyone sorted out with the RNC for now and probably the FBI later, Veronica and Logan enjoy a drink at the bar below the Doyles’ office. Named the Duke of Duckworth, it’s clearly a local hangout, dark and crammed with liquor bottles. The wooden interior is decorated with beer signs, plus soccer and rugby pennants. It feels worn and comfortable and fits this family well. Sitting at the large table in the back with Logan, Jake, Malachy, Rose, and Des, she sips her bottle of Gallows beer and lets the conversation flow around her. 

Malachy teases Jake about his investigative skills, Rose mothers Des and tells him he needs a haircut. Jake harrasses his brother, Christian, the bartender, about the service. It’s loud and gruff; they talk over each other and trade insults back and forth. But their eyes shine with love and affection laces their interactions.

Veronica is a loner, she knows this about herself. An only child, she has few, albeit fiercely close, friends. She missed her dad when she lived away for so long, but she’s always been independent. A tiny, solitary family—just her, her dad, and Logan—sounds perfect to her. She has no desire to be part of a big clan but she’s enjoying her visit to Newfoundland more than she expected.

Maybe if she had grown up in a place like St. John’s instead of Neptune…

The wind blows in as the door swings open, and she shivers.

 _Nah._ She laughs inwardly. _Not worth it._

Glancing over at Logan, she laces her fingers through his. Not like she would do anything to change the path that brought them together, either. It’s bumpy, for sure, but it’s theirs. They belong to each other just as much as Jake and Leslie. She wants Logan in her life forever. Maybe that means she will put a ring on him after all, or maybe not. Either way, spending time with the Doyles—married with three kids but still loving, caring, bickering, and solving crimes together—has shown her that just because she commits doesn’t mean she will lose what she has now. She doesn’t have to be afraid. But she also knows it’s not necessary—Logan’s not going anywhere. 

As if thinking about her conjures her, Leslie and Tinny appear in the doorway and make their way to the round table. Scooting to find room, Tinny wedges herself in next to Des and Jake slings his arm around Leslie’s shoulders as she perches by him. All eyes are on them, waiting in expectant silence.

“I’m happy to say that Becker took a deal and confessed to everything.” Leslie beams, cheeks flushed with pride. “And we got the location of the drugs and weapons, too.”

“You’re scary good in the interrogation room.” Jake leers at her. “And hot, too.”

“What’s the deal, love?” Malachy leans forward to hear.

“He agreed to give up his contacts in exchange for a lesser sentence. He really wants to avoid jail time entirely, but that won’t be possible.”

“It will take time,” Tinny cautions as her husband places a sweet kiss on her cheek. “We’re working with the police in Neptune and possibly the FBI, not to mention the Feds here. All those agencies, international issues…”

She trails off, grimacing, and Leslie nods.

“It won’t be simple.”

“But it’s a start.” Rose raises her pint glass in Leslie’s direction. 

“Yes, a toast!” Malachy lifts his bottle in the air. “To Tinny and Leslie, picking up Jake’s slack and doing all the hard work, as usual.”

Jake glares and grumbles into his whiskey glass.

“And to Veronica and Logan,” Malachy continues, “for helping us finally get Becker behind bars. It’s been a pleasure.”

“Hear, hear.” Logan salutes the table with his beer.

Veronica tips her glass at Leslie. “And to new partnerships.”

There’s a chorus of cheers and glasses clinking.

“I called Ruby, let her know how everything ended up with Becker. Aside from a minor crush,” an adorable blush colors Logan’s cheeks as he speaks, “She will be fine, flying home soon. So what’s next?” 

Tipping back his bottle, he drains it and meets Veronica’s eye as he sets it down on the table.

She shrugs. “Back to life in Neptune, I guess.” 

Basking in the glow of a solved case—especially one that saves Ruby, proves Dick’s innocence, and nails an international criminal to the wall—should be satisfying. But the sudden let-down and loss of purpose hits Veronica hard. Staring at her beer, she scratches at the label with her fingernail.

“I did take the next couple of days off.” Logan smiles, his voice holding a note of promise. “I think your dad could survive a little longer without you.”

Logan was gone for six months. Maybe she could take a few more days to enjoy having him home. The idea pulls her out of her impending melancholy mood. Glancing around, Veronica takes in the bar and the faces around the table she’s come to like. She taps her chin, faux thoughtful.

“But if we were going to take a trip, wouldn’t we go somewhere warm and sunny?”

“Warm and sunny?” Leslie echoes. “You have that all the time in California.”

“Yeah,” Jake adds. “What about a scenic vacation in the oldest city in North America?”

Logan claps him on the shoulder. “We’d need a guide. To make sure we saw the real city and not the tourist traps. How could we ever find someone?”

“You know, a P.I. could be good at that.” Des dimples at her, eyes twinkling. “We know this place better than anyone. But we promise, no more cases to solve.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Veronica holds her hand out to Jake, accepts his firm shake as Logan and Leslie trade smiles. “We make a pretty good team.

**Author's Note:**

> You know the expression about how it takes a village to raise a child? I kinda feel that way about this fic. I've been writing it for 2.5 years, and yeah, it took a village. So thank you to MarshmellowBobcat for listening to me ramble even though she had no idea what I was talking about. Thank you to CCS for reading the first draft and very kindly helping me see it's flaws. Thank you, Ellie, for helping me plot the second draft! Thank you, HBG, for telling me she'd read this even if she's never heard of ROD. Thank you, VMarsTrek, for being my Newfoundland consultant! EXTRA thanks to Dark for not only beta'ing this fic but encouraging me so much that he actually watched (and liked!) Republic of Doyle. This fic would not have been finished without you, friend! And thanks to ayyohh for her ABOVE AND BEYOND beta skills. She is so motivating and just the very best.


End file.
